


Where the Winds Sigh

by Klance_Convert



Category: Rise (TV 2018)
Genre: Awkwardness, Denial, Fantasizing, Feelings, Jolene is sassy, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Angst, Mild Internalized Homophobia, Realizations, Smut, The Desdemona Scene™, idk how to tag this, spring awakening - Freeform, when the smut doesn't come to you you have to go to the smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-05-17 13:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14833319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klance_Convert/pseuds/Klance_Convert
Summary: Simon has to perform the Desdemona Scene in rehearsal and Jeremy has some Thoughts™





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever write a Rise fic that doesn't have an SA quote as the title? Probably not
> 
> There's no smut in the Rise tag and this thought has been circling my head for awhile, so I thought I'd bring it to you guys if you don't mind. Enjoy!

It was three weeks before the show, and the troupe was cheerful during rehearsal, talking and laughing, cracking jokes and smiles. They had made so much progress, and they couldn’t help but feel excited for opening night. Lou walked into the auditorium, clapping his hands to get their attention. “Good afternoon, everybody, we’re gonna start right off with My Junk in full, so I need the main girls, Simon, and Francis in place, and uh, Clark, be ready off stage for Herr Rilow.”

Simon fidgeted uncomfortably on stage, “Uh, Mr. Mazzu? Does that include the Desdemona scene?”

“Yes, which means can someone’s grab Hänschen’s nightshirt please?”

Simon took the robe as it was handed to him, slipping it on. He awkwardly sat in the chair placed out for him, wiping his sweaty palms on it. It wasn’t like he couldn’t do the scene. It was just- uncomfortable. The vineyard scene was already going to be scary in front of his parents as it was. But pretending to jerk off in front of a crowd of your peers, teachers, and parents? That was going to be more downright embarrassing.

The song started playing and right off the bat he could say the girls were definitely doing great. Their voices were beautiful, and if Simon didn’t know better he’d say it was an innocent, sappy song. Francis’ part was also well done, though he could see Violet still trying not to giggle at the ridiculousness of her part.

And then it was his turn. He fumbled with the blank piece of paper in his left hand, slipping his hand under the nightshirt. “Have you prayed tonight, Desdemona?” He began awkwardly. His movements were stiff and unnatural, and he could already see Mr. Mazzu furrowing his brow in dissatisfaction.

Sure enough, he waved his hands to signal the band to stop. “Okay, okay, let’s see. Simon? Try to loosen up a bit. Relax. I understand this is a very awkward scene, I get it, just… try not to get in your own head, okay?”

Lilette gave him a silly face and two thumbs up from where she stood. Simon felt himself relax a little. He nodded his head once, taking a deep breath, “Yeah, um, okay.”

Jeremy stood offstage, watching as they restarted the scene. Jolene sidled up next to him, giving him a look. “I bet you’re happy,” she said suggestively.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Please, like this isn’t something out of one of your wet dreams? Come on Travers.”

“Shut up,” he glared at her.

“You didn’t deny it,” she teased.

“Fine, it’s not. You happy?” he insisted, crossing his arms.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” she replied.

Jeremy turned back to the scene at hand. Simon had just restarted his monologue, slipping into character with his Hänschen voice, losing the awkwardness in his lines for a smoother tone. “Have you prayed tonight, Desdemona? You don’t look like you’re praying, darling- lying there, contemplating the coming bliss…”

Clark interrupted his monologue with a loud rapping. Simon seized up, looking frantically toward the noise. “Hänschen? Are you all right?”

“My stomach again, Father, but I’ll be fine.”

“Yes?”

“Fine.”

“...Well, then.”

Simon snuck his hand back under the shirt, his face turning into a half lidded smirk. “Darling, don't think I take your murder lightly. The truth is, I can hardly bear to think of the long nights ahead...,” His voice took on a hint of breathiness to it, the movements under his nightshirt slowly speeding up. Jeremy’s mouth went dry as he watched, a blush creeping up the back of his neck.

Simon continued his monologue, a look of pleasure coming over his face. Jeremy felt heat pool low in his groin, trying to look away without success. He knew it was all fake, of course. Of course. But Simon was also a very good actor. And Jeremy was having a lot of trouble remembering that it wasn’t real when he was looking at the expressions on Simon’s face.

Jeremy’s thoughts were interrupted by Clark once again interrupting Simon’s monologue, “Hänschen, that’s enough in there.”

“Yes sir,” Simon answered, his voice cracking.

A beat. “Son?”

Simon squeaked out, “One minute.”

The song began to launch back into the melody, Simon’s movements speeding back up once again. As the song rose to a climax he let out a final gasp, his face screwing up in pleasure. It was supposed to be a funny song, but Jeremy found himself unable to tear from Simon’s performance, which was doing things to his body and mind. Simon walked off stage as the song finished, passing Jeremy on his way. Jeremy kept himself from acting like a gaping fish, but not before he called out, “Simon?”

Simon turned back to him, his face still a little flush from embarrassment in having to do the scene. “Yes?”

Oh god, why had he gotten his attention? Fuck. “Uhh, nevermind.”

Simon gave him a look, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “um, okay,” and headed backstage.

Jolene sidled back up to him after Simon left, smirking. “Need to blow off some steam, Travers?”

Jeremy groaned and buried him face in his hands.

  
  
  


Jeremy’s head was swimming as he laid in bed, watching the minutes tick by late into the night. His mind was stubbornly focused on the scene they practiced today. Simon’s scene had felt so real, the stage melting away as if Jeremy had walked in on a private moment, and not a comedic scene in the otherwise dark show. And then they had to go on and practice Touch Me right after that- Jeremy wasn’t sure, but he could’ve sworn Simon’s eyes were on him during his solo, boring into him.

He imagined the intensity in those eyes, thought of them staring him down, a smirk across his lips, one of the flirty remarks from the show aimed at him. He imagined that they were not on a stage, but alone, just the two of them; and Simon’s performance was for him, only him. He thought about the movements under the night shirt that left little to the imagination, and what it may look like underneath it…

Jeremy felt the heat settle low in his gut like it had earlier that day. Hesitantly he reached down between his legs, letting out a huff of air when he felt the very obvious hardness between them. Shifting in his bed, he slipped his hand under his boxers, taking a gentle hold of himself. He ignored the pang of guilt that came with knowing he was thinking about Simon; instead he focused on the details of today’s scene. The breathiness in Simon’s voice as he recited his monologue. Jeremy imagined it developing into full moans, pants and whimpers that would be absolutely beautiful falling from his lips. Simon’s voice was so beautiful, an angel in disguise, there was no doubt he would sound just as heavenly under Jeremy’s ministrations.

He thought back to their kiss in the parking lot. God, it had only been a couple weeks, hadn’t it? He remembered how Simon had responded to him, leaning into his touch, deepening the kiss, the heat radiating off his body. He thought of kissing him deeper now, pulling him in, running his fingers through his hair, under his shirt, over his chest. Jeremy flicked his wrist at that thought, little “ahs” slipping out as he worked himself up. He wanted to see Simon fall apart, wanted to be the one to help him. Make him forget about all of his worries, his stupid dad, his own internalised fear, and just let go.

It was the expressions on his face that really got Jeremy, mouth hanging open, eyes tightly shut. It felt so intimate, so realistic. It was his face, every smile and pout, that already put butterflies in his stomach. Simon Saunders was way more than just “cute”, that was for sure. Jeremy wanted to touch him so badly, put his hands and mouth all over him was shuddering and crying out, face screwed up in pleasure. Wanted to be touched by him, feel the electricity come from his fingertips and his lips on his skin. 

Jeremy’s breath hitched with a quiet moan, the pleasure boiling under his skin. He arched his hips up into his touch, his movements speeding up quickly as he chased his climax. His mind spun with thoughts of Simon, Simon, Simon _ , _ his name becoming a chant in his brain. And now it wasn’t even what Simon could do to him, it was his laugh, his smile, his eyes, his voice, his heart, oh god,  _ Simon- _

“Simon!” he cried out as he climaxed, spilling into his hand. He continued to ride out his orgasm for several seconds, pumping his hand until it became too sensitive. He ceased with a long, drawn out sigh, catching his breath. He sat up and felt the stickiness of cum on his hand. Sighing again, he grabbed a few tissues, wiping himself clean. 

Then it clicked into his mind what had just transpired. He had just gotten off. Thinking of Simon. He had just gotten off thinking of Simon. When he’d have to face him tomorrow. And do scenes with him.

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The roles are reversed, and Simon has to deal with the repercussions of Jeremy's performance of Touch Me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after getting tons of comments asking for a second chapter from Simon's perspective, I finally gave in and decided to give it to you guys. I wrote so it wouldn't just be the same events happening again from Simon's POV, so I hope you guys enjoy that. Thank you for all your kudos and comments, they really do keep me writing!

Simon couldn’t help but reflect on the events of the day as he got ready for bed. He was surprised to find he was only slightly mortified at having to perform the Desdemona Scene that day. He was a professional; he could handle it. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to be getting any flack from his castmates about it, so that was good. He just let himself relax and perform the scene. Not too much though. There was a line between acting and actually fantasizing on stage. He would never let it go that far.

Accidentally his mind flickered to an image of Jeremy’s face, after he had finished his performance. He couldn’t help but flush a little at the thought Jeremy had been watching the scene. Which was crazy, right? There were fifteen other castmates also watching Simon, some performing around him during that scene. Perhaps it was the look Jeremy gave him afterward, all awe and heat mixed into a single gaze. 

Simon shook his head. He probably making that part up in his head. Besides, it was not right for him to imagine such things.

Oddly enough though, it wasn’t his scene that Simon was thinking that much about. After finishing My Junk, Mr. Mazzu had immediately jumped them into Touch Me, as they were starting to fine tune the details of their choreography. It was one of the few songs that was nearly ready, it just needed some polishing. All of the vocals were amazing, each person there incredibly talented and worthy of their place. But again he found himself drawn to Jeremy as he performed his solo, unable to take his eyes off him.

_ Simon turned his head as Jeremy stepped up onto the chair when Michael finished his solo, seeming to center himself for his performance. Simon had heard the solo a hundred times but still found his breath taken away every performance. “Touch me,” he began, lightly trailing his hand up his other arm and leading it across his chest, “just like that, and that- oh, yeah- now that’s heaven.” He brought one hand up into his hair, grasping at it earnestly. _

_ There was no denying Jeremy’s talent, Simon knew. He would never do that. His voice was smooth and clear, ringing out across the auditorium. The emotion came through every time. Which made it difficult for Simon to focus, because here, Jeremy’s voice of desire- every inflection indicating what it was he wanted. He continued to caress himself gently as he sang, “Now that I like, god that’s so nice.” He made a face of pleasure, which sent a spark of… something into Simon’s abdomen. He pushed it away, not wanting to think about it. _

_ Jeremy came to the end of his solo, singing, “now lower down, where the figs lie,” trailing his hand down his torso towards his abdomen, biting his lip gently in an expression of bliss. Simon felt like his body was burning, forcing himself to look away, and almost missing his cue in the process. He thought he could feel Jeremy’s eyes on the back of his head, but didn’t turn around to check. _

Simon snapped himself out of his thoughts of that afternoon. The sparks he had felt earlier that day had turned into a low buzz in his stomach, which could for him only be accompanied by a sense of dread. He rolled over on his side in bed, deciding to ignore the sensation, hoping it would just go away. But after a few minutes of tossing and turning, he realized it wasn’t going to go away on its own.

He sat up in bed, letting out a long stream of air. So. He was turned on. That was okay. He was a teenage boy, that was perfectly normal. There’s nothing saying it had anything to do with what he was thinking about. It’s fine. He was fine.

Deciding it was no good to keep putting it off, he reached down and firmly wrapped a hand around himself, his breath hitching at the contact and realizing how hard he actually was. Okay, this was fine. It’s not like he hadn’t done this before after all. Again, he was a teenage boy. He just had to keep his mind clear and focus on pleasuring himself, and not think about that face Jeremy had given him after his scene, how he might look at him now if he was here, just the two of them, how he might join in…

No! Simon shook his head as if it would clear the image from his mind, even as he felt a little shock of pleasure roll through his body. At least he should try to think of something else, someone else. He tried to imagine to imagine long hair, curved hips, round breasts. Someone feminine. He should be imagining someone like Anabelle. Anabelle, as he had said before, was a great girl, after all. But everytime he tried to imagine this generic image he found himself only grasping at threads, his traitor of a mind replacing it once more with images of one particular sandy haired, blue-grey eyed boy. A boy.

He groaned in frustration, his stomach nauseous from fear, or arousal, or probably both. It was a losing battle, his mind supplying him with fantasy after fantasy. Jeremy running his hands over his chest, Jeremy sucking hickeys into his neck, Jeremy whispering in his ear all the things he’d do to him. Simon had to bite his lip to keep the moan from slipping past, his hand inadvertently speeding up. He shouldn’t thinking about this, shouldn’t be thinking about him, but the voice in his head got quieter and fuzzier the longer he went on. He could only focus on touching himself, getting off as quickly as he could before his guilt caught up with him.

He felt himself nearing the edge, flicking his wrist and gritting his teeth to hold back any embarrassing noises he might make. He thought once more of Jeremy’s in practice, the look on his face as he sang. He wished, he really wished that he could deny what that face did to him, what  _ Jeremy _ did to him, all dorky smiles and funny jokes and heated gazes. There was that part deep inside him, no matter how hard he tried to get rid of it, that wanted to hold him, kiss him,  _ touch _ him, oh  _ fuck- _

Simon was unable to hold back one last moan as he finally climaxed, arching his hips into the touch and riding out the waves until he became oversensitive. He settled back onto his bed, breathless, grabbing a tissue from his nightstand to clean up. He walked to the bathroom, washing his hands in the sink, when he caught a look of his face in the mirror, and the reality of the situation hit him. He had just fantasized about a boy- about  _ Jeremy _ . There was no way to deny that. There was no way to deny any of this anymore. He covered his face with his hands, tired and emotionally drained.

What the hell was he going to do now?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Kudos and comments are appreciated. Both detailed reviews and incoherent screaming are welcome.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr! My main is [@klance-convert](http://klance-convert.tumblr.com/) or you can follow me on my sideblog [@lostin-melody](https://lostin-melody.tumblr.com/) to listen to me scream about Rise and other musicals


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